Hey, guys! This is my new story called One Step Closer. (A longer summary is on my profile) Man, I'm so excited! This is my first multi-chaptered story that isn't just drabbles. It will be my main priority, so one-shot fans be warned ;D I have it all planned, so it's only a matter of writing it. I'm currently working on my Science Project, and I have to check it again soon. I'm just killing time.

So, this story mainly focuses on:

Ryou - 15
Bakura - 16
Malik - 15
Marik - 16
Seto - 16
Duke - 16
Yami - 16
Serenity - 15
Kisara - 15
Spirits - Unknown

So, as you can tell, this is major AU. I touch most of the characters, but in odd ways (such as siblings, cameos, etc.) Also, you may consider some of them OOC. Their characterization is just different. Say, for example, Bakura wasn't an ancient tomb robber and didn't hate the pharaoh. Would he be so cruel? Another example is Marik. If he weren't made from Malik's sadistic, dark side, would he be so insane? Probably not. I'm taking what I think they would be like without their past. Some things are the same, yes, but not exactly.

All relationships, histories, and personalities will be explained during the fic. It will all make sense...eventually. You're probably wondering how this came about, huh? Well this is it:

This idea started out as Ryou moving to a new town and singing with a singing group. Then, I thought, What if the place is haunted? Then, How did they die? Was it an accident, or not? Then, after more muses, What if history repeated itself? After that, I started to write late at night everything I could think of. I jotted down dates, names, and ideas. And I loved it!

I hope you like this story. It will be a long ride, but a fun one. It will be fun. Hope ya like the prologue ^^!

DISCLAIMER:I don't own. I know I don't. Quit rubbing it in!

---

July 21, 1909

---

The theater was silent aside from the long, elegant notes of a violin. The strands of the warm pitch echoed through the room, floating around in an intricate dance. The young man playing the instrument was no older than sixteen, but he played with incredible skill. A small, gentle smile was on his face and his eyes were closed. His hands moved to the rhythm with little struggle, like they were floating on their own.

He had come to the theater his uncle owned to escape the stress of his father's job. He hated the heated battles between his parents, which he always seemed to be in the middle of. Here, he was free to break away from his proper act and just let loose. It was an amazing rush, like soaring through the wide, open sky.

As he played the last few notes, a slow clapping began. He jumped, and opened his warm eyes in surprise. He saw another young man about his age sitting in the first row, gazing up at him.

"Impressive."

The crimson-eyed man turned his head to the side, blushing furiously. "Th-thank you." Then, mustering his courage, he asked, "But, who are you? Are you a sketchy thief, looking to rob the place? A curious soul?" He lowered his instrument to his side.

The other teen chuckled. "That is an excellent question. One, I'm terribly sorry, you will not get the answer to."

"A-and why in the world not?" the musician fumbled with his words, still unnerved by the presence of the man. He had seen him in his most vulnerable state, one of the rare times he had his guard down.

His thin lips turned up into a smirk. "Because," he laughed, "making you squirm is quite amusing. Why don't you amuse me more, young violinist?"

The musician tried to snarl, but he found he was too flustered to be able to. "I-I'm not a servant to be used for amusement! I will not listen to you, a lowly thief."

"You continue to interest me. You assume I'm a thief, correct?" He smiled. "Assumptions, assumptions. They are never a good thing, be warned."

Realizing that if the man wanted to harm he would have done so by now, the violinist relaxed. "Well, if my assumption wasn't correct, I would have to wonder why you are here. Care to enlighten me?"

The intruder rose to his feet casually, and sauntered up the wooden steps. As he approached him, the musician realized he was a good five inches shorter than the other.

"Well, to answer your question, I guess you could say I have a love of music as well."

The teen raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? What instrument do you play? You don't look like a violinist; your hands aren't slender enough. A drummer, or a trumpeter, perhaps?"

This made is smile genuinely. "You are wrong. I'm a singer." A curious, unbelieving glint sparked in the teen's crimson eyes. "Why are you shocked?"

He was only answered by a shrug and an, "I don't know."

They stood for a moment in silence, just looking at each other curiously. Suddenly, the taller one broke the silence. "What are you waiting for? Play a tune! I'll follow along; don't worry about that."

The young man nodded, and lifted the beautiful treasure to his chin. He rested the slender bow on the familiar strings, and let a warm smile light up his features. Suddenly, his fingers began to play. They glided over the strings, causing a medium pitch sound to come flying. It was a moderate, lively speed, but extremely difficult to play.

The singer grinned a toothy grin, and relaxed his shoulders. Then, suddenly, he opened his mouth to sing. His voice wasn't anything like the way he talked. Instead of the sly, gruff voice the teen was used to, it was warm and genuine. His pitch was nearly perfect, and the simple lyrics he made up sounded beautiful to their ears. It was like an enchanted force guided his voice to fit the music, blending in a breathless melody. It was a magical feeling, and both of them knew it.

Then, with a few parting notes, the music died down. They both smiled with a special spark. The teens looked at each other in a new light, like they were seeing the other for the first time. For once, their music felt right.

"That was incredible," the violinist breathed, pulling his instrument from his chin.

The singer could only nod, his throat still tingling from his song. He always knew he had a talent for singing, but he never imagined that he could do something like that.

A laugh escaped from the shorter teen. "I...don't even know your name. And you don't know mine!"

An eyebrow was raised. "Don't I?"

"What?" he cried, startled. "You know...Do you?"

"You know, you're extremely easy to get emotional. Frazzled by the slightest comment; paranoia at it's finest, eh?" He smirked with arrogance. "Why so nervous, huh?"

The young man frowned. "I'm not paranoid!"

"Yes you are."

"I am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Okay, you're not."

"Yes I am!"

Suddenly, the arrogant man laughed. "Easy to trick, too. You need to lighten up, you know that?"

The shorter one sighed slightly, trying to look annoyed, but couldn't help but smile. Here he was, opening up to the total stranger, and he couldn't even bring himself to be angry at his insults. Something about it was awkward and comfortable at the same time.

They stood there, thinking about everything and nothing. Was it minutes; hours; days? They weren't sure. All they knew was they were there and nothing else mattered but their music. Eventually, though neither of them noticed, they began to play and sing in harmony once more. Just as the song was building in a dramatic climax, the violinist stopped.

"What is it?"

The young man looked alarmed. "Do you...do you smell smoke?" His eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Oh my, I do!" His head jerked over to the other, who looked just as horrified. He was gazing off at the door, eyes full of an unimaginable emotion. Following him gaze, the young man froze. There, in the only way out of the room, was a wall of fire.

Fire.

There was no windows, doors, or telephones in the theater. Their only exit was blocked, and they were trapped. All of the chairs were rapidly going up in flames, the red beast taking no prisoners.

"What do we do?" the violinist whispered, backing away from the rapidly burning part of the stage.

After a pause, the singer let out a choke cry. "We...wait."

---

The fire grew and grew, burning down the entire building with its fury. Later in the papers that next morning, horrible news was brought to town. Nobody survived the fire that night. Not a single soul. Everything - and I mean everything - was destroyed.

Little did they know, this end was only a new beginning.

---

Any guesses on whom the mystery teens are? I know! I think I made it obvious, but what did you think? Well, hope to see you soon :D Comments, criticism, and reviews are welcomed and encouraged greatly.

- Unique Art